


Wants and Needs

by xtricks



Category: Torchwood
Genre: D/s, Kink, M/M, Torchwood: S1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-04
Updated: 2009-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-02 12:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Ianto move in togehter!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wants and Needs

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously peverse, explicit D/s relationship. Set sometime in mid-series one. Disclaimer: BBC owns the rights to these characters and Torchwood.

### Wants and Needs

  


* * *

"I think," Jack said, idly stroking Ianto's hair, "that it's about time to start crate training you."

Ianto certainly couldn't answer, not with Jack's cock heavy and thick in his mouth but he made some sort of strangled noise, drool slicking his chin, that even he didn't know the meaning of. Jack arched, pushing deeper and Ianto gagged, jerking reflexively and banged his head against the underside of Jack's desk. It was one of those little reminders and Ianto relaxed, opening his mouth wide for the next shove, accepting the strain, the aching jaws, the cramped discomfort of being crammed under Jack's desk like this and the seemingly impossible push of Jack's cock into his throat. The throb of it there, rammed deep, made Ianto's eyes well with tears as Jack groaned and came. He took a gasping, convulsive breath when Jack pulled back but licked eagerly at the head of his cock, greedy for a taste. When Jack came deep like that, nearly choking him on his cock, Ianto didn't get to taste his come and he loved that. He loved all of this.

He rested contentedly where he was, head on Jack's thigh, while Jack caught his breath above him. The phone rang abruptly and Jack's fingers twitched against Ianto's hair before he picked it up, brusque and professional even as he traced the curve of Ianto's ear with his thumb then pinched his spit slick lips until they ached. Ianto licked his fingers and settled in, snuggling between Jack's spread knees as he pulled close to the desk, pencil scraping on paper somewhere above Ianto's head. Jack wouldn't bother to let him up until it was convenient for him. Ianto shifted a little on his aching knees and wondered if Jack would allow him a rug or something down here. Then he could stay longer. A flutter of excitement made Ianto press his nose to Jack's thigh; maybe if he was allowed a rug, he could stay trapped and snug here, under Jack's desk, all day. Maybe Jack would chain him down here, ready for use, and Ianto's excitement sharpened to a hot little ache, arrowing down to his cock, stifled immediately by the cage around it that Jack used to keep him under control. Ianto squirmed and Jack yanked hard on his hair, another little reminder to behave.

He crawled out, blinking and flushed, when Jack pushed his chair back and stood over Ianto as he knelt on the floor. "What was all that wiggling about?" he asked sternly. "Do you need to piss?"

"No, sir," Ianto said. He'd been allowed to go not long before. "I was thinking that a little rug might be a nice addition to your office, here under the desk ...."

"Oh?"

"Then I could -" Ianto stammered, flushing and darted a glance up at Jack's face. Always beautiful, and intrigued now, and if Ianto felt humiliated by all this - and he did - it wasn't because Jack ever showed any sign of contempt or judgement. Ianto licked his sore lips and went on, voice a little rough from Jack's use of him. "- stay there longer."

Jack grinned down at him. "That would be convenient, wouldn't it?"

Ianto nodded. "Just trying to be helpful, sir."

Jack hummed, grin sly as Ianto blushed darker. "Of course. Simple expedience."

"We'll see," he said, ruffling Ianto's hair before gesturing him to his feet. "Depends on how you handle your crate training, if you're not responsive to that, having you half-crushed by my knees under my desk for the day isn't going to work, rug or no."

"I'll be good, sir," Ianto promised unhesitatingly. Jack cocked a brow at him.

"Of course you will," he said and Ianto swallowed, reassured and afraid at the same time. He'd be good, all right. Jack would make sure of that.

"So," Jack clapped his hands, making Ianto jump, "shopping. Get the SUV ready and find a couple of those big box pet supply stores for us to check out."

"Us, sir?" Ianto said surprised. Jack didn't usually ask or want Ianto's help when inflicting some new torment on him.

Jack turned back to him, mildly chiding. "Of course, have to make sure it's the right size."

Ianto bowed his head, shivering a little at the thought of crawling into a cage in the middle of some brightly lit department store. His hand went reflexively to his cock, futilely trying to ease the constriction of the plastic chastity device, and Jack chuckled. Ianto jerked his hand away with a cough; he'd lost the self-control to avoid touching himself somewhere along the way, he'd even caught himself doing it in public, more than once. Hopefully Jack wouldn't ask him to bark while trying out cages. Not that Ianto would refuse, if he did. Rolling his eyes at himself, Ianto turned to his station. It would be a wonder if he didn't get arrested for being a sex pervert. Thank god for Jack's blithe tendency to abuse Torchwood authority or they'd all be in jail.

Less than an hour later, Ianto followed Jack with the trolley and tried very hard not to think of anything at all every time Jack stopped to finger a leather leash or pick up a squeaky dog toy. When Jack looked over at him with a grin, a broad red leather collar in hand, Ianto couldn't catch his breath ... or take his eyes off Jack's fingers as he fondled the collar. It had a matching leash. Ianto had a shirt exactly that color.

"You do look good in red," Jack said, mouth curled wickedly. Ianto clutched the bar on the trolley and closed his eyes, still he couldn't stop the abbreviated, pointless jerk of his hips and the knowledge that he was losing control in a public place only made it worse - or better. His balls were drawn up tight to the collar around their base and his cock throbbed in a steady frustrated rhythm, erection restricted by the chastity cage, but he was nevertheless pulsing with blood and heat and want until Ianto felt heavy, almost drugged with the depth of his need.

He had no idea what his face betrayed but Jack was beside him then, hand steady - oh, and _more_ arousing - at the small of his back. "Breathe, Ianto," he murmured, "you look like you're about to faint."

"Sir - " Ianto panted, his hips rolled again, and the frustration sharpened to something like pain. "Jack, please. I don't think I can do this." His breath left him in a rush at the confession. He looked to Jack, something easing in him. Ianto knew that all he had to do was say it and Jack would decide - he would make it right. Everything was most thoroughly out of his hands.

He hadn't been out in public much ... not lately. Not like this. Not with Jack and never when they were so explicitly attending to Ianto's ... needs. Jack's desires, perhaps - though Ianto wasn't even sure about that - but Ianto's needs. He hadn't realized how overwhelmed he'd feel.

"Okay," Jack said gently. He rubbed his thumb against Ianto's spine making him twitch. "Close your eyes," he said. Ianto did so immediately. "Breathe for me, one ... two ... three."

Ianto breathed obediently to Jack's count, secure in the little darkness, with Jack close enough to feel his body heat. It pushed away a little of the exposure and let him feel again the steady, implacable ache of his own body, all full of _needs_ and _wants_ and so, so greedy. All of that was him and all of that was _Jack's_ \- given and taken.

"We're going to get your cage and then we're going to leave. You've had enough teasing, I think."

"Everything is too loud," Ianto said.

"I know. We're almost done," Jack stroked Ianto's back once and stepped away. "Open your eyes and follow me."

"Yes, sir," There was no other answer possible. Ianto fixed his eyes on Jack's back and pushed the trolley, breathing ... one, two, three.

The large crates and cages were off in a back corner, blissfully isolated and Jack - thankfully - did not make Ianto try them out after all. It was easy enough to size them anyway, only the very largest sizes were reasonable, and Jack settled quickly on two options.

"So," he stood between them, after he dragged them noisily out into the walkway, arms crossed. "Do you want something more closed in like that?" He nodded at the large, tan plastic travel crate. It had air holes in the upper sides and a wire front door but was otherwise closed in. The walls sloped in slightly and Ianto frowned at it, trying to imagine being inside it, would it be cozy? Too dark? How long was Jack going to make him be in the crate anyway?

"Where are you going to put the ... "

"_Your_, Ianto, _your_ cage," Jack patted the plastic top of the tan crate. "This is for you."

"M-my cage?"

Jack smiled cheerfully, rocking on his heels. "I thought I'd put it in my bedroom."

"There's no room, sir." Ianto pointed out but Jack just looked mysterious and self-satisfied.

"Well," He tugged on his sleeves eyed the options. The plastic crate or the wire one - the wire one was slightly larger, all six sides of it were chromed steel with a plastic pan that slid into the bottom (and would keep him from crouching on the mesh floor or - as the advertising said - making a mess if he had an 'accident') and a single wire door. It was the 'ginormous' size and he'd be able to crawl in easily enough and even turn around but not stretch out. A tag dangling from the door advertised a discount on a fleece cage liner and Ianto wondered idly if Jack would buy that too. He remembered again, the close confinement under Jack's desk and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants, fingers twitching with the urge to touch himself, to somehow ease his aching cock.

"Well?" Jack prompted after a moment, shifting restlessly.

"I - I don't know, sir," he answered wretchedly. He couldn't bear the thought of choosing and didn't understand why Jack wanted him too. He didn't get to chose when to relieve himself anymore, why this? Ianto would do whatever Jack wanted, he just had to be _told_. "Which one do you want?"

"It's not for me," Jack said, expression neutral as he stepped away. "I'm going to get something, when I come back, you tell me which one you've decided on."

"Jack!"

"That's what I want you to do," Jack said firmly. "Choose between this cage," he tapped the wire one, making it rattle faintly. "Or that one. That's all you need to do."

Ianto stared after him as Jack walked away, then swung his gaze to the crates, feeling a weird sort of panic welling up. He was unsupervised, something that hadn't happened since his second hospital stay, and there was this ... this ..._ choice_. Jack let him choose his clothing, sometimes, and Ianto shut his eyes - clinging to what Jack had shown him - and tried to imagine nothing more complex than a choice between a red shirt or a blue. But which cage was which? Was the wire one blue, or red? What if he made a mistake? His throat tight with a fear better suited to risking his life, Ianto stared at the cages until they blurred in his vision.

What if he made a mistake?

What if he was wrong?

What would happen?

What would Jack do?

And the fear left him then, in a rush of realization so intense Ianto nearly sank to his knees. If he was wrong, Jack would correct him. Jack didn't make Ianto try and second guess what he wanted; if Jack wanted to fuck Ianto, he told him so, if he wanted to watch him crawl, he told him to get on his knees. If Jack was _letting_ him choose then it was _alright_ to choose. Ianto could have what he wanted. _That_ brought up the thorny question of what he wanted but the impulse came to him almost immediately and Ianto went over to stand beside the metal cage. It was shiny and chrome and steel and if his desire for it was moved a bit by the cage of metal that had taken Lisa away ... well, that was alright too.

Jack came back with a huge, crackling plastic bag in hand and smiled at Ianto when he saw him. "Figure it out?"

"Yes, sir," Ianto said gratefully. "I _want_ this one."

"Good boy," Jack murmured and Ianto made a little sound of gratitude. Jack was patient with him but he didn't often praise. _Good boy_ was worth more than gold in Ianto's new world. "Looks perfect."

At the Hub Jack wouldn't let Ianto put it together, instead he disappeared with the box that held Ianto's cage - it was disturbingly easy to think of it as his - a set of tools and some reinforcement for the bottom of the cage for several hours.

Ianto did his usual work, making coffee, incinerating an inconvenient body, sniping with Owen, all the while wondering where Jack was and what he was doing. He wasn't in his bunker, the cage wouldn't fit down there anyway. Ianto wondered mournfully if he was going to be exiled to some storeroom every night.

Jack returned in time to see Gwen off with a round of unresolved sexual tension, watching them only wound Ianto up tighter, as both the privilege and consequence of his place in Jack's life was illuminated again by the way Jack bent intimately to Gwen, eyes alight. Jack never looked at him like that, but he and Jack laughed too and Gwen was never going to kneel naked at Jack's feet while Jack came on her face. Ianto had to turn away, sweating at the image he'd conjured up, hand clutching his crotch. He was beginning to wonder if he should worry about circulation issues. Jack had promised that the plastic contraption he'd locked on Ianto's cock was designed for 'extensive wear' but he'd been in it for three _days._

The walkway rattled as Jack bounded up behind him and Ianto turned back with his best face on, putting both hands behind his back. One good thing about the damned cage on his cock, it kept his nearly constant desperation well hidden. "Let's test out your new bed, huh?"

"Of course, sir," Ianto said formally, mouth twitching when Jack laughed, raucous and unashamed. There were a great many trials in this life he'd chosen and a great many pleasures as well.

They did not go down to Jack's bunker, instead Jack led him to sub-2 and a side passage to some of the less used storerooms. When Jack threw open one door with a flourish and Ianto peered in, he discovered Jack had decided on some major changes.

Jack's bunk was here now, and Jack's battered old teak wardrobe and the footlocker and the cinderblock and wood boards Jack used as a bookshelf. The cage was set up at the foot of Jack's bunk, a gleaming chrome testimony to just how perverse the two of them were. A tiny and ill hung door led to what Ianto vaguely recalled was an emergency washroom, squeezed mysteriously between two of the larger archival rooms. A small shelf unit was tucked into the corner near the washroom door and Ianto's toiletry kit was set on top. The room wasn't, actually, very big but there were three whole strides between the side of Jack's bunk and the wardrobe across from it and that made it seem positively luxurious. The rug unrolled over the concrete must have come straight from the 1800s. Ianto paused in the doorway, flustered.

"Sir?"

"Go on," Jack nudged at his back and Ianto stepped forward.

"This is quite an afternoon of work," Ianto said, nudging a toe against the edge of the worn maroon and navy rug, already thinking about steam cleaning. It was quite a bit more than one afternoon's planning. Jack, Ianto realized, had been thinking about this - and_ this_, he glanced at the cage, included_ him._

Jack reached out, sliding his hand along Ianto's waist and down to squeeze his arse. "And I expect to be well rewarded for it. Frequently and at length."

"Undoubtedly, sir."

"Now," Jack slapped his arse lightly, not even enough to sting, but Ianto's cock twitched in it's hard confinement nevertheless. His voice was eager and it was still a heady rush to hear that and know it was because of him that Jack sounded that way. "Off with your shoes and in you go."

That moment of pride carried Ianto across the room and he slipped off his shoes to line them up neatly beside the cage. Jack had added a thick mat to pad the bottom and tossed in a ragged old blanket, for Ianto's comfort as well. He knelt in front of the open door obediently enough then froze like a broken clock as another, terrible realization hit him.

_He and Jack were moving in together._

Jack read his panic as last minute resistance to the cage and set his hand at the back of Ianto's neck, petting soothingly. "Easy, Ianto," he rubbed his thumb along Ianto's hairline. "You can do this."

"I - are you sure?" Ianto closed his eyes, shutting out the room and all the things it said. Things he'd never imagine asking. Things he'd been busily not wanting. Not from Jack, for god's sake. Jack's bed, his cage. Jack's boots, his boot polish. Jack's belt, Ianto's arse. "Jack -"

But Jack wouldn't let him stand, or even crawl away, and a panicky moment later Ianto was still on his knees in front of the cage and Jack was still there, murmuring in his ear.

"You're going to be my good boy," he was saying, breathing heavily and twisting one of Ianto's arms painfully behind his back. "I know you are and I'm going to take my belt to your ass if you don't settle down."

"I'm sorry," Ianto gasped, reaching to touch Jack's face with his free hand, another little disobedience but he didn't care. Jack was - Jack was doing this. This room, this place. This place for _two._ "I - will, I will, please, Jack. I want to."

Jack kissed his ear and reached down to unbuckle Ianto's belt. It was inevitable, the rise of his hips to any hint of touch and Ianto's shivering got worse as his zipper was tugged down and the shiny clear plastic caging his cock caught the light. He had no underwear, of course, had no idea what Jack had done with them - they'd all disappeared one day and he'd not worn a pair since. His poor cock was flushed bright red behind the cage, small and pitiful even as swollen as it could be inside it. His balls were a darker, sullen color, pinned by the plastic collar that held the contraption in place on his cock. The sight of himself made Ianto whimper. When Jack fit a tiny key into the tiny, bright brass lock on the thing, tears welled in Ianto's eyes.

"Sir," he breathed, the muscles in his thighs quivering visibly. Pre-come oozed from the slit at the end of the cage, shameful proof of how desperate he was. "I don't think I can - I can control myself."

"Of course you can't," Jack said easily. He unhooked the lock and pocketed it. "But your training should hold. We've been working on it long enough."

Ianto had his doubts. He felt ready to explode, jerking uncontrollably as he felt Jack's hands on the cage ... the warmth of them, the closeness and the not _quite_ touching.

"Deep breath," Jack instructed and Ianto gasped and Jack drew the cage off his cock in a steady motion and Ianto _wailed._ Every pent up moment of lust seemed to rush to his cock all at once and it pulsed and twitched, flushing even darker as Ianto swelled enormously, growing painfully hard in a moment, pre-come trickling from the tip of his cock in little pulses. He didn't come, not quite. Some part of him, well broken, waited for the sound of Jack's voice.

"Oh," Jack groaned, gripping Ianto's hands to keep him from touching. "Oh, that's _beautiful."_

"Jack," Ianto gasped, tears streaking his face. His cock jutted up from his open trousers, a shocking red and he'd never been so big, never been so strainingly _hard._ He'd die if only he could come. "Oh, god, Jack, please letmeletme - oh -!"

Jack twisted a hand in Ianto's hair and dragged his gaze from his cock, making Ianto look at him. "You've been so good," he said coaxingly, "such an obedient boy. We're almost there, baby, I promise."

Ianto couldn't really speak, not even to beg and he writhed until Jack put him in an arm lock again, bending him close to the floor and he sobbed for breath, stammering _please_, and _need,_ and _oh, Jack, anything, please._

"You want a reward, don't you?"

Ianto shuddered, sagging against Jack, stricken, barely able to understand what Jack was saying. "Y-yes," then, oh, he knew what Jack meant and he nodded, frantically pulling himself together a bit. "Yes! Yes, oh, yes, please, I'll be good, I'll be so good. Anything you want Jack, I want to - I want -"

"I know it," Jack chuckled, breathing hard himself. Ianto could smell the heat in him, the lust, and it was like a drug and he felt high, _flying_. Or drowning, sinking into a world where there was only obedience and need and Jack. "Get in the cage."

Ianto scrambled in, whimpering at every bob of his cock and squirmed to turn around as he heard the door close on his heels. Then, as Jack stood above him, Ianto tentatively tested the door. Even without a lock, he couldn't really manage the bolt from inside and he watched silently as Jack slipped it home, neatly locking him inside. He could stand on his hands and knees and lift his head to look up at Jack, neatly bisected by the straight lines of the cage, and feel his hair brush the top. The padding beneath his hands and knees made the bottom comfortable enough. Jack's smile was indulgent and Ianto found himself smiling back, even as the ache in his cock shook him to his bones.

It was strangely, and profoundly, comforting. The room loomed beyond the bars but Ianto felt separate from it, protected in his own space. He also felt, well, something he didn't quite understand but he felt overflowing with pleasure and gratitude, almost lightheaded with it all. Jack had locked him in and his heart beat slow and deep in his belly at the thought.

"Now, that is a lovely, lovely picture," Jack said with rich satisfaction, running his fingers along the bars. His eyes were dark, the blue lost in desire and his erection pressed his trousers up at the fly. Ianto tipped his head up impulsively and licked the tips of Jack's fingers as they trailed along the cage, tasting salt and flesh and cold metal. Jack slid his fingers into the cage, between the bars, breathing sharply. Ianto sucked on them, licking wet and eagerly, slurping noisily. Those soft whimpers filling the room were his, he realized but the panting groans were Jack's. He licked blatantly at Jack's fingers and at the bars, watching Jack's face with wide, needy eyes.

"Fuck," Jack gasped, face flushed, he suddenly heaved up against the cage, rattling it and Ianto in it as if he was going to fuck his way in. "Ianto, you pretty thing ... don't you dare touch your cock."

He pulled away to yank hurriedly at his belt, at his fly, and Ianto twisted his fingers in the bars of the cage to keep from reaching for his own cock when Jack's bobbed free, unreachable beyond the metal imprisoning him. "Want it," he begged, "oh, Jack I want your cock so much. I can't touch it - "

Jack growled, shoved his trousers to his thighs and dropped to his knees. He shuffled closer then, until he was pressed up against the wire doorway, his breathing loud in the room. _Their room_ and Ianto shuddered, head dipping, eyes fixed obsessively on the obscene jut of Jack's cock. Jack gripped it and Ianto imagined him coming like that, spattering the bars, his face and him - he'd lick it off, keep everything clean. He salivated just at the thought.

But Jack didn't masturbate, instead he carefully threaded his cock through one of the squares of the cage, easing close until he was pressed tight to the wires and his cock was thrust into Ianto's cage. Where he could reach it.

"Oh," Ianto breathed, staring at the red, hot flesh, perfectly framed by a chrome square. _"Oh."_

The buttons on Jack's shirt clicked on the metal as he panted and he clutched at the wires, expression wild, wordless for once. Ianto couldn't look away from Jack's face, didn't, as he scooted closer to the front of the cage, mouth opening wider and pushed his tongue to the broad head of Jack's cock, licking ... again ... licking, licking. Jack whimpered, lashes fluttering and Ianto could see his hands tighten around the cage wires, hear his belt drag across the floor as he thrust reflexively, humping the cage in a hopeless effort to get closer.

Trapped in the cage, Ianto couldn't get out, he was penned like an animal but, he realized in a heady rush, Jack couldn't get in. He couldn't force his cock down Ianto's throat, couldn't pin him and fuck him, couldn't drag him by the hair to his knees. He moaned when Ianto closed his lips around the head of his cock, sucking with little groans of joy as the taste flooded his mouth. It was what he wanted, here, like this, the pace, the depth, Jack's pleasure and Jack's frustration. Jack was hitching his hips, straining against the bars and Ianto pressed closer, filled with a sort of obscene mercy. Besides, he wanted to suck Jack's cock.

Ianto rocked forward, lips sliding along the shaft, then back, eyes shut as he rocked again, forward and back, each time going deeper. The cage creaked a little around him. His eyes fluttered open when his nose pushed uncomfortably against a metal bar, his chin too as the purse of his lips stayed snug and close around Jack's cock. Ianto swallowed and pulled and Jack was bowed over the top of the cage like a man in agony.

He could feel the flutter of Jack's racing heart against his tongue, feel it echo through him until Ianto felt it in his own cock, as if it wasn't even his, as if everything were Jack's. He sucked more urgently, grunting a little, wondering if he could come like this, just from sucking Jack's cock and how he'd be punished for it. He was humping the air, cock a dangling, heavy weight under him. Ianto ignored the occasional bash of the bar to his nose or chin in favor of the deep push of Jack's cock into his throat. Jack arched back suddenly, clutching at the cage, and his cry was high pitched and wild when he came. Ianto took him deep as the throb and pulse of come spilled into his mouth and he swallowed, swallowed, drank him down.

Jack pulled back, cock popping from Ianto's mouth and he coughed, startled when Jack rattled the door frantically pulling at the latch until it popped up. He hauled it wide and reached in and Ianto scrambled to him, into his arms, burying his face against Jack's sweaty shirt. Jack's palm slid down his belly and Ianto stiffened, suddenly aware again of his aching cock, how the ache had only grown and deepened while he'd sucked Jack's cock and he was going to get his reward.

"Jack," he cried, clutching fistfuls of Jack's shirt. "I've been good, I've been a good boy - you - you -"

Jack's hand closed around his cock and Ianto shouted, squeezing his eyes shut so hard there was nothing in the world but red and black stars and the grip of Jack's hand and the slide of it along every aching inch of his cock. The swipe of a thumb over his weeping glans, the terrible, wonderful way Jack kneaded his fingers at the root, the way he leaked in a dribbling mess across Jack's hands and everywhere. Every pent up moment of lust, every instant he'd wanted to come, all the frustration and animal craving that he'd been drowning in for the past three days rushed through him and Ianto realized he was shouting, nearly screaming in his lust and desperation. His balls had drawn up so hard he hurt and he rutted wildly against Jack's hand, biting his shoulder, clawing at Jack's back. All he wanted ... all he wanted ... this was all he wanted.

"My good boy," Jack was saying in his ear, chanting, a pattern Ianto knew down to his throbbing cock. "My boy. You're going to come for me, you're going to come for me, _now ... now ... now!"_

Ianto howled, lost, and came and came and _came_, the spasms of his climax shaking him in Jack's arms and the whole world came down around him, shattering, washed away, gone. Just singing nerves and pleasure.

He was crying but didn't know why - didn't care - and Jack rocked him in his arms, stroking his hair and let him. Ianto was limp with relief, skin tingling, snuffling until he could catch his breath and even the tears felt good, a release like coming. Jack's heart beat warm against his own chest and his cock was finally,_ oh, god_, thankfully soft and spent and sticky as it hung along the fly of his pants. Everything else was blurry and unimportant. Jack was kissing his neck, his hair and telling him he was beautiful and good.

Ianto sniggered.

"What?" Jack tugged gently on his hair.

"I shouldn't be surprised that your ideal of beauty includes being doused with come." He leaned back. The both of them looked like they'd been hosed down with semen, their shirts sticky and stained, and Jack had a smear of it on his cheek. Ianto rubbed his face, embarrassment creeping up on him. "It looks like I exploded."

Jack grinned, scratching his cheek. "Well, I was wondering for a minute there."

Ianto leaned close again, resting his head against Jack's. "Am I - am I sleeping in the - my - cage?"

Jack stroked his back. "Do you want to?"

"Isn't that what you're planning to ... train me to?"

"Yup."

Ianto shut his eyes and breathed in the heavy smell of come, of sweat, of Jack, of himself. He thought of the day, begun in the tight confines of Jack's desk, of the end of it, confined again. His is needs and his wants. "Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, it's what I want."

Jack kissed his forehead. "Good boy."

**END 100309**


End file.
